Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief.
If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not
If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
He is not great who is not greatly good.
I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.